


Bushfire

by murderlight



Category: Bleach
Genre: Gen, Pre-Slash, except not really, guys being dudes, pissing contests, redheads need more love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 07:52:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15384135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murderlight/pseuds/murderlight
Summary: Despite all the skirmishes and threats traded with Grimmjow over the years, one subject had never come up. In retrospect, given how often Ichigo had copped heat for it during his school years, he really should have expected it eventually.





	Bushfire

Countless battles between them had been and gone, but despite all his skirmishes and threats traded with Grimmjow over the years, one subject had never come up. In retrospect, given how often Ichigo had copped heat for it during his school years, he really should have expected it eventually. 

“Standing out like a lantern with that head of hair, Kurosaki,” Grimmjow laughed between traded blows, swords sparking light with each clash in the dusky gloom. “Grow it out and cut it, you might have a chance of hiding from me in the dark.” A flurry of dancing blows crashed down around him, barely blocked by Zangetsu in time. Ichigo hauled back and swung a massive getsuga tenshou off to give himself some distance. 

“Says the fucking smurf lord over here,” Ichigo panted, swiping his sleeve over his mouth and cheek. He was sweating worse than Kon at Yuzu’s slumber party. “The hair is natural, asshole. Square up.” 

“Natural,” Grimmjow scoffed, taking in a dramatically deep breath through his nose. Changing his grip on Pantera, he telegraphed a forward lunge for Ichigo to counter. Up close, separated only by their swords, his tilted blue eyes were brilliant with mockery. “Think I can smell that bleach from here.”

Twelve years of public school bullying condensed and punched Ichigo right in the fucking face with a single sentence.

“Oh, you know what–” Forcing Grimmjow back with pure obstinate will, Ichigo planted his foot against a zippered chest and drove him back a few feet. Shoving his sword into the dirt beside him, he wrapped a hand around his sash and yanked it free from his waist. By the time Grimmjow caught his balance and straightened up to cuss him out for the dirty move, Ichigo had already shoved his black hakama down and out of the way.

The silence was absolutely deafening. 

Grimmjow blinked at his exposed dick. Glanced up at Ichigo’s mutinous expression. Then back to his dick. Scratching his cheek with an air of scholarly concession, Grimmjow nodded a little. 

“Alright, guess I might have to give you this one. Damn, Kurosaki.” The edge of his mouth curled in approval. “That’s one way to win an argument. But d’you really want to flash your cock at me while I got a sword in my hand?” 

“I’m not worried,” Ichigo said coolly, not even bothering to cover up yet. Power move, he told himself. “You don’t seem to know what to do with it, anyway. Sure the bleach you were smelling wasn’t coming out of your own hair? I get needing to feel special when you’re number six of ten, but…c’mon.”

With a flash of steel in growing moonlight, Grimmjow stabbed Pantera deep. Deep into the earth, anyway. With granite determination and absolutely no regard for Ichigo’s mental state, Grimmjow yanked down his zipper and shoved his entire ensemble down over his hips, because of course the asshole was wearing an all-in-one outfit. 

Ichigo’s eyes followed the natural progression of exposed flesh all the way down, until…

Oh. Huh.

He’d kind of assumed, but…yeah.

Carpet. Drapes. 

A shinigami and an arrancar five feet apart with their dicks out in public. Belatedly, Ichigo hoped Soul Society wasn’t still keeping tabs on his comings and goings. 

“And that,” Grimmjow said with the broad smugness of someone with a third fucking leg, “is officially a draw.”

**Author's Note:**

> look, 
> 
> [tips over water jug and runs]


End file.
